Page:What cheer, or, Roger Williams in banishment (1896).pdf/25

 Oh, what protecting hand from lurking harm Will be thy shield by night?—What friendly door Will give thee refuge at the dire alarm Of hungry wolves, and beasts in human form?"

XXXII.

"Oh cease, my Mary, cease!—Thou dost complain That Heaven itself doth interpose to save,— Doth wing this tempest's fury to restrain  The quest of foes, and prompt my soul to brave The desert's perils, that I may maintain  The conscience free against who would enslave;— Wait till the storm shall cease to sweep the plain, And we are doomed to cross yon heaving main."

XXXIII.

No more he said, for she in silence went From place to place until her task was o'er; Williams, the while, the fleeting moments spent To scrawl a message to delay the more— Aye, to mislead the beagles on the scent, Till he could safely reach far wood or shore; And, haply, hope its vain illusion lent That friends might plead, and bigotry relent.

XXXIV.

Then he to Heaven his weeping spouse commends, And craves its blessing on his purpose bold;— Still Salem lies in sleep, and forth he wends To breast the driving storm and chilling cold; While the lone mother from the window sends A look where all her aching heart is told; Dimly she marks him as his course he bends Across the fields, and toward the forest tends.